Something Greater
by GitUrCray-On
Summary: One shot, Lord Selwyn of Tarth comes to a realization about his daughter.


Lord Selwyn Tarth never understood the animosity toward his daughter, but it started at her birth with the midwife's exclamation that she was afraid there'd be no end to the newborn she was helping from her mother's womb. Unlike her brother before her, Brienne was a strangely long and lanky infant, no amount of suckling filled up her cheeks and her thighs were muscular from the day she arrived. There would be japes later that Lord Selwyn had his way with a mare to create Brienne… there was no denying the girl was foal-ish, all arms and legs. Arms and legs and big, blue eyes that were all too often filled with tears. Brienne was a strong and fierce child, but a very tender-hearted one as well and it was her propensity for tears and rage that made her a frequent target… even with her own Septa. Selwyn was oft tempted to let the woman go, but Brienne needed some sort of feminine instruction.

He didn't know why he'd thought it a good idea to have a ball for Brienne's fifteenth name day, standing outside her chamber door listening to what sounded like her shredding her gown he berated himself. But she was his only surviving child, and, though tall and strong as one, was not a man. She would need a man to retain their hold on Evenfall Hall; so, he'd sent the ravens. Brienne had been apoplectic when he told her of the plans for her name day and refused to speak to him for weeks before the ball. The day of, she'd dragged her chest of drawers in front of the bolted heavy, wooden door of her chamber… it'd taken Selwyn and five of his men to open it enough for Brienne's Septa and maids to enter to dress her for the ball. Selwyn himself had to drag her into the dance hall, thanking the Seven her Septa insisted on proper shoes that had Brienne a bit off her center of gravity or he'd never have gotten her there.

He thought himself vindicated when he saw the happy smile on Brienne's face as lord after lord asked her to the dance floor, threatening to duel over who was next to spend a few moments with her; he'd never seen his daughter so happy. Then it'd happened. It started with one lad, and caught like wildfire, the sniggering and whispering. Not the light gaiety of youths enjoying a party, but the malicious tittering of those who were in on a great joke at another's expense. Selwyn saw Brienne freeze and her face contort, he willed her to be stoic, and tried to catch her eyes. _Words are wind._ He mouthed their secret prayer to her, but she didn't look at him, she studied her feet and bit her lower lip and his heart stopped. Then Renly Baratheon strode forward, took up Brienne's shaking hand and spun her around so her back was to the japing crowd. He was saying something to her, and Selwyn thanked the Seven for King Robert's baby brother despite the rumors that swirled around him. He could have an inclination toward men, women, sheep… or all three at once for all Selwyn cared in that moment.

As the festivities concluded, Selwyn sought his best blacksmith and slipped him a sketch as well as ten gold dragons and a promise for ten more if he finished by morning. Then, he sought Brienne to apologize. She wasn't in the hall, nor the baths, he found her shoes on the staircase leading to her chambers. The door was bolted, he didn't doubt there was a pile of furniture in front of it, this time he wouldn't enter, he pleaded with her to open the door. She said nothing, though it sounded as though she threw something heavy at the door. There he stood, for minutes or hours, he didn't know, listening to the sound of ripping fabric… the gown would be in tatters, he was sure. Probably in tatters strewn all over the courtyard, Brienne had a tendency to throw things she despised from the windows in her chamber and many dresses had met their end on a rainy night when the courtyard was muddy enough to render a gown beyond salvation.

As he suspected, Selwyn found himself caught in a flurry of sapphire shreds as he crossed the courtyard to the forge where he busied himself with pieces of leather. As the sun rose, Selwyn thanked the blacksmith and accepted the proffered metal working. He slid the blade into the leather sheath he fashioned and threaded the sheath onto the belt, fastened the buckle and went to the stables. He slung the belt over a post holding the wooden slat retaining Brienne's mare in her stall and returned, exhausted to his own chambers. It was time to accept that Brienne was meant for something greater than her status required of her, he'd know it since he looked into those flashing blue eyes for the first time.


End file.
